Diagon Alley
by akmdreamer
Summary: Walks in Diagon Alley are something Harry and Ginny love, and with each season brings a new mood, a new atmosphere...another thing they enjoy. One chapter for each season, all kind of drabble-ish. R&R!
1. Springtime

**DISCLAIMER: NO! I DO **_**NOT **_**OWN HARRY BLOODY POTTER! **

Diagon Alley: Springtime

Its dusk, that time just before twilight when the sky is still a light blue though now infused with gray, and the world seems darker than it should be below the horizon.

I love this time.

Just the most subtle mist hazes around us in such a pleasant way as Harry and I stroll through Diagon Alley. Our hands are clasped in his jacket pocket, and neither of us is talking much, just enjoying the person beside us.

A man steps out of a shop briefly and flicks his wand. At his command, the street lamps flare to life, casting their steady, unwavering glow of white light on the sidewalks: Never the sickening yellow that pools on Muggle streets.

Its during that lag between rush hour and the late-night crowd, when the village seems to pause and catch it's breath.

The mist is beginning to clear, and replacing it is a light drizzle.

Nobody's really out at this time, so we're perfectly free to stop in the middle of the street as we do now, the droplets of rain thickening growing into a heavy shower.

So its fine with me as he brings our clasped hands up, over our heads, and twirls me around in a whirl of laughter and vivid red hair and rainwater.

Its fine with me as he tugs me towards him and presses his soft, warm lips to mine.

My mouth slides over his in a burst of gentle passion, tasting his tongue, licking the rain drops off his lips, giggling all the while.

Springtime.


	2. Summertime

**DISCLAIMER: I DO **_**NOT **_**OWN HARRY BLOODY POTTER!**

Diagon Alley: Summertime

A shimmering haze of heat mingled with magic stifles the air of Diagon Alley.

Harry and I walk a short distance behind Ron, Hermione, and the rest of my family.

Ron and 'Mione are bickering again over some trivial matter I can't be bothered to find out when I have the distraction of my very handsome boyfriend, who has just accomplished the task of defeating the most evil Dark wizard of our time, and our parents' time, and our grandparents' time for that matter.

Finally, after not seeing him for the better part of a year, we're all going back to Hogwarts for our seventh and final year.

Harry tugs my hand gently to get my attention, and I glance over at him. He's smirking at me.

I don't protest as he leads me away from the rest of my somewhat-chaotic family, and ducks around a few awe-struck, giggling, sighing fan girls of his.

Was I ever really like that?

We weave through the streets, backtracking until we came upon one of our favorite places in Diagon Alley: Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

Bells chime over the door, their silvery _d-ding!_ dousing me like refreshingly cold water.

We order, and at Harry's insistence, he pays. Taking our banana split outside, we bypass the tables completely and settle under an old maple tree, digging our spoons into the creamy, delicious mess.

Harry chuckles at me and kisses my nose, flicking his tongue out to lick up the smear of vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce.

I giggle, reaching up to cup his chin and swipe my thumb over the drop of ice cream there before kissing him deeply, tasting the ice cream on his tongue and nibbling at his lips as his sticky fingers come up to touch my cheek gently.

Summertime.


	3. Autumn

**DISCLAIMER: I DO **_**NOT **_**OWN HARRY BLOODY POTTER!**

Diagon Alley: Autumn

Alone, at last.

Free of my watchful parents and meddling brothers.

Diagon Alley's streets are carpeted with red, orange, and gold, the colors vivid and warm to balance the cool weather. The drier ones crunch under Harry and my feet as we stroll through the Alley, both of us grinning and chattering.

Tomorrow is start of term, and the weather is uncommonly cool, though the change is not at all unwelcome. Our fingers twist together on instinct, and I revel in the feel of his larger, rough, warm hand encasing my own small, soft, cold one.

He leans down to nuzzle my crimson curls, kissing my ear and whispering, "Come on, I want to show you something."

Harry picks up the pace, and soon we're running, laughing raucously, my ringing laughter mingling with Harry's deep chuckles and sending shivers down my spine.

He leads us deep into Diagon Alley, and finally, we slip 'round a bend and in front of us, there's a small wood of entirely maple trees, or so it seems. He tugs me forward again, and we start down a small, unassuming trail through the trees.

It's truly beautiful, and I tell him so.

He looks at me, with utmost sincerity in those wonderful green eyes and says, "So are you, Ginny."

I giggle and scoop up a handful of the leaves, tossing them at him.

He yelps in indignation, and brushes at the ones that now adorn his unruly black hair.

Gathering an armful, he dumps it on me, and we soon have a growing pile of vibrantly-colored leaves in front of us.

Dropping my "arsenal", I step forward, and something in my expression must have caught him off-guard, because the leaves he'd been threatening me with flutter to the ground, settling around our feet.

His eyes darken in color, and I take another step for him.

My arms circle him, tangling in his hair, and his wrap around me tightly. My lips touch his in a fierce frenzy of excitement and love.

He gasps into my open mouth, and holds me closer.

We tumble back into the pile of autumn leaves, and, giggling, I stretch out next to his long, lean body, reaching over to intertwine our fingers, and he sighs contentedly. Staring up at the leaves and flitting shadows, I smile.

Autumn.


	4. Winter

**DISCLAIMER: I DO **_**NOT **_**OWN HARRY BLOODY POTTER!**

Diagon Alley: Winter

Flurries of snow swirl around us, adorning my eyelashes and sparkling on our cloaks, nestling in Harry's ebony hair.

It is slowly darkening, and with the impending nighttime comes even colder air.

His arm is around me, and our breath mists in the December air, sparkling like frosty spider webs, shapeless Patronuses.

Harry's fingers slide under the collar of my cloak, rubbing my neck in a gentle massage.

I shiver at his cold touch, and he steers me wordlessly towards a more private destination.

The layers of snow crunch with our hurried footsteps, and his head dips to touch his lips to my cheek a couple times, a hurried form of affection as we take the winding street and lose ourselves in the crowd, hoping not to run into anyone.

In a quieter part of the Alley with a few scattered shops around us.

We settle on a bench, and I let him gather me in his arms, holding me so close I can hardly move. I nestle into his shoulder, breathing in deeply.

I try to memorize his scent, which mingles with the icy edge the season gives it, and the feel of his arms around me.

He drops kisses on my neck and shoulder, and I press my hands to his back, touching my mouth to his temple.

"I love you."

It's the first time he's actually said it.

Winter.


End file.
